


Do Us Part

by Juliette1713



Category: Northern Exposure
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliette1713/pseuds/Juliette1713
Summary: Future - Joel is visited in New YorkAssumes most of season 6 didn't happen





	1. Chapter 1

Standing on the subway platform, Joel suddenly had a strange feeling come over him. It affected every one of his senses, all at once. He was in the Grand Central subway station, waiting as he always did on the 4 or 5 to take him the rest of the way from home to where he didn't really want to go, his office off 83rd on Park Avenue. He was the only doctor in his practice who took the subway in, something which garnered him the support staff's respect but which, like his other eccentricities, further alienated him from the other doctors. 

Suddenly, there on the platform, the din of trains and announcements and people faded, and he suddenly heard birds chirping. He looked around at the others waiting there, still reading folded newspapers, fumbling through their bags, staring at the wall and waiting for the train to appear - not a single person seemed to notice. Granted, these were New Yorkers and anything short of a small explosion was unlikely to draw everyone's attention, but the change had been striking enough that it couldn't have been just him that perceived it. 

Not just the sounds that came but the smell - the usual dank mixture of dirt, piss, and body odor had disappeared, and the air suddenly smelled like just after a rain had fallen. Clean, crisp - cold. Very cold. In fact, it was more like after a snowfall, and the air that rushed around him suddenly felt cold enough to provide snow. Even in the packed subway, which itself retained that year-round sense of an afternoon in summer - and even, as it was now, July - cold air poured around him. Standing in shirt sleeves, he suddenly wanted for a winter coat. And unaccountably, intensely missed Alaska. And Maggie. But then, he always missed her.

The rush of air ahead of his train only made it feel colder, as it entered the station. He swore he saw snowflakes swirl ahead of the train and in its wake. He stepped forward with the rest of the crowd, dreading fighting his way through the door and standing, body to body, with total strangers. Upon returning to New York, so much he'd forgotten came right back to him, but the ability to comfortably part with his personal space never had. 

As the train slowed, he noticed he was the only one waiting on the car that had slowed to a stop in front of him. The other cars each had a mass of people trying to squeeze all at once through their doors, but he was alone in entering his. And then alone upon entry. As he stepped inside, he realized the car was completely empty. At rush hour, no less.

Smiling at this bizarre bit of good fortune, he sat down in a seat, luxuriating in being able to toss his briefcase and gym bag on the seat beside him and lean his head back against the window, stretching his legs out ahead of him. He closed his eyes momentarily, unable to shake the homesick feeling that had overtaken him. That he still felt this way every time he thought of Cicely - and Maggie - didn't portend a more joyful existence for him anytime soon. Even so, he at least had this small victory over his usual mass transit nightmare. Plus, he could now be assured his morning wouldn't get any stranger than this.

"Joel! How are you?"

Joel's head snapped up, eyes opening to see...

"Rabbi Shulman?!" The older man, clad as he always was in a charcoal gray suit, striped shirt, and solid tie in a muted color, smiled at Joel from the seat just opposite. He hadn't been there seconds ago.

"You're always so surprised to see me."

And just like that, he'd proven himself wrong about this morning's normality. "Well...once I saw you when you climbed out of a lake in the middle of Alaska before we got swallowed together by a whale. Then, another time, you took me on a tour of my Yom Kippurs, past and future. Both a little strange. My main quibble is that both times were after you'd...well... you know..."

"You can say it. Died. After I was dead and gone. So how's your mother?"

"Ma? She's fine. But... you're dead."

"I am. And your dad? How's Herb these days? Still working?"

"Kind of. He sold the business, retired, but he can't stay away, you know how he is. He's over there most days, hassling the new owners, thinking he's helping. But Rabbi..."

"Joel, if you point out that I'm dead again, I'm going to start feeling self-conscious."

"Sorry. It's just...I didn't realize you were the last couple of times we did this. After I moved back here, my mom told me you'd died back in 1992. Before we'd met all those times."

"And that bothers you?"

"Well, I don't believe in ghosts. Sorry. Just as a man of science. So, yeah, it's strange. Dissettling."

"But that we were swallowed by a whale you embraced without question?"

"I figured it was all a very lucid-seeming series of dreams."

"Ah. Very rational of you. Do you think you're asleep right now?"

"Not really. Though I *am* questioning my sanity. But when am I not doing that lately..."

"Speaking of which - I've asked after both your parents...but, how is Joel Fleischman doing these days?"

"To be honest, Rabbi, I've been better."

"Is that so? I'm sorry. What's ailing you?"

"Well. Okay. Let's see. I hate my patients. I hate my partners. Consequently, I hate my job. I live with my parents, and I hate that. But I hated living alone more. Oh, and I hate New York. As it turns out. Which means I'm realizing I hate everything I've spent the last two decades working towards. My friends - and I don't have many - either already think I'm crazy and are just being polite, or are just a few outbursts away from thinking that. And I haven't had sex in a year. That sum it up for you?"

"It does. That's why I'm here, Joel."

"Which part of it?"

"All of it. I came because you're unhappy."

"Why did you ask how I'm doing then?"

"Seemed the polite thing. Didn't want to assume. And it's a useful exercise, you saying it. And hearing yourself."

"Did you make it snow in the station before? And the birds sing?"

"I'm a dead rabbi from Queens, Joel, not a wizard. Snow and birds? What happened to being a man of science?"

"Sorry, just a hunch based on timing. It's nothing. Least of my problems. So you're here because I hate everything?"

"You don't go to temple anymore."

"Oh. So you're just here rabbinically, over my poor attendance?"

"No, but if you won't go to temple, then you likely lack in spiritual guidance. So here I am. A spiritual man. Guiding you."

"Guiding me where? Also this is my stop here coming up. So you can guide me the rest of the way to work."

"83rd?"

"Yeah. Park Avenue practice. Just like I said I always wanted." His voice was self-deprecating and sarcastic.

The older man laughed warmly. "Turns out you didn't?" The two rose and left the subway car together, no longer alone as they moved with the masses towards the stairs.

"I don't know. I make a lot of money. But our clientele consists entirely of vapid patients with either unessential concerns and wild imaginations or people who figure because they have money they can buy their way to health without changing a thing about how they live. Sort of like indulgences in purgatory - eat red meat every day and never exercise but pay a doctor exorbitant sums and suddenly your plaque-coated artery walls will magically resolve themselves."

They walked up the stairs, the heat and smells of the city's underground replaced now by the heat and smells of outside. Someone rushing past him bumped into the bag slung over Joel's shoulder, causing it to almost fall. He sighed at this latest invasion of his personal space and moved the strap over his head to hang diagonally across his body.

"We don't really do indulgences on our side of things, Joel, but I follow your meaning. Whatever happened to Alaska?"

His eyes looked suddenly weary. "I left."

"I see. Why?"

"My contract was up. And I overstayed it. I was always going to leave. So I did."

"Yes, but should you have?"

"Is that why you're here? Is that what the birds and the wind were about? To make me feel homesick, tell me I shouldn't have left?" At the top of the stairs, Joel made his way to the nearby intersection, the older man following him at his elbow.

"Is that what you think they were telling you?"

"Why do you show up just to ask me questions?"

"I told you, I had nothing to do with any meteorological anomalies you claim to have experienced. And these are questions you rightly should be routinely asking yourself." The traffic light changed and the two men massed forward with the others waiting there to cross. "What happened to that girl you were seeing out there?"

"O'Connell." Joel face hardened further into an expressionless mask.

"Unhappy subject? You were contemplating marriage with a besotted smile, as I recall, last we rode the subway together. So something changed?"

"Nothing changed. It just didn't work out. As usual."

"Did you try?"

"Did I *try*? Yeah. I did. Thanks for thinking otherwise, but I really did. We didn't work."

"Again, relationships with anyone other than the Almighty aren't really my area, but that seems a hasty decision with something as important as she seemed to be to you. Relationships aren't meant it be easy, you know. Maybe that was your mistake, giving up and leaving her." 

"Hey, I did what I was told to do." Joel's voice was defensive, his face still inscrutable.

"Perhaps it wasn't what you should have done, though. Maybe she misses you as much as you do her. Have you ever tried to..." 

Joel cut him off. "She was more than clear."

"Do you still love her?"

Joel's lack of an angry retort was answer enough. "Joel, you act as if none of this can be undone... So this is what's behind the year long 'sabbatical' you cited earlier, huh? I see. And how long has it been since you've been to temple?"

"Now we're back to that? I don't know. Years. I didn't go when I lived in Alaska either and you took no umbrage with that."

"As I recall your outpost was fairly remote and somewhat devoid of Judaica. You had an excuse. One that hardly works in tri-state area."

Joel turned left onto Park Avenue and sighed frustratedly. "I kind of do my own thing these days. I try to live morally. Just without all the ritual."

"The ritual is the fun part though, Joel. As is the community. Even without temple, Alaska gave you a community. And you brought with you the ritual. Now you have neither. What's morality worth if you live unhappily?"

"Okay, so I start going to temple, and then I feel happy again? That's your advice?"

"No. You're missing my point. Falling out of step with your faith is but a symptom. You're unhappy."

"Obviously. So what should I do about it?"

"Seek joy. It won't find you. Do what makes you happy instead of doing things you can't stand. You're a bright guy - why do I have to explain that to you?"

"I see, and what would that be, exactly - the joy I should seek?" 

"Are you asking me to define joy for you?"

"No, I'm asking what I should do. I'm miserable. Okay? Isn't that why you're here? Help me see that? To counsel me? Tell me where I've erred? Get my life back on track? Point me in the right direction? Isn't that what we're doing? I'm living the wrong life - I admit it. So what's the right one?"

"You know both what's wrong with you and how to fix it. You came back here and realized this wasn't what you were meant for. You're just too stubborn to take the next step."

"Which is?"

"Alaska. Love. Faith. That little town. Your patients there. Ms. O'Connell. You don't need me to tell you that."

"She told me to leave! That life is not an option for me any longer."

"I wouldn't be so sure. You can't always let your anger about what's happened cloud your feelings. You know the right path; you need only to take it. You had your sign this morning on the subway platform - something is about to happen. Stop acting like the past so strictly governs the future. Do what will make you happy when the opening presents itself. And it will. Soon." Rabbi Shulman patted Joel's shoulder and walked onward down the sidewalk.

"That's it?! You're not gonna...gonna take me on a tour of some alternate timeline where my life is worse or better so I know what to do next? Let me see what I'm not able to from this vantage point? Help me figure out what I'm doing that's so wrong? Nothing? And what do you mean 'something' is going to happen? I open up to you, and then you just leave me here in misery? That's great. Just great. Thanks a lot."

"Who are you talking to?"

Joel turned and found himself being watched, bemusedly, by one of partners. 

"Oh. Hey, Mark. Uh. Was just walking with my old rabbi. He's gone that way but..."

"Funny. I followed you all the way over from Lexington, and you were just talking...to yourself. Animatedly. Most I've seen you talk since I met you."

Just then a black bird flew between them, landing at Joel's feet. It stood, unmoving, between the two men.

"Do you see that?" Joel asked, without thinking. 

"The pigeon?"

"No, it's a raven....and it's not moving. It's like it's not afraid of people."

"It's a pigeon, Joel, and it's probably diseased, like half the birds in this city. Can we go inside, or is this another friend of yours?"

Joel snapped out of it, looking up, awkwardly meeting Mark's eye. They turned to enter the building together in silence. 

"Elevator's this way, Joel." Mark was still smirking at him. 

"Thanks, I'll walk." Most days he couldn't stand Mark, and even when he could, he usually preferred the stairs.

"Suit yourself. Say hi to anyone new you find to talk to in there."

Joel climbed the flights to the third floor and entered his office, pulling the door immediately shut behind him. He slid his lab coat on, sat down, and stared at his door. He was losing it. He didn't care, but he was. That was definitely a raven.

His eyes moved to look at the photo framed on his desk. Holling's, taken that night he threw what passed for a party in Cicely, to celebrate having decided not to exorcise his cabin's ghost. And to distinguish Joel's life from his. He felt cold rush around him again, flooding his senses again as his memories flooded his mind. They were all so familiar-seeming and yet distant memories, all at once. 

In the picture, Maurice stood behind him, dwarfing Marilyn who stood by his side. Just to the right, Ruth Anne smiled with Holling beside her, perfectly posed despite having had to run to beat the camera's timer. Chris was front and center - a poignant position, given that he served as the de facto voice and conscience of the town. Shelly was laughing, seated at Holling's feet and Ed was pointing and shouting something which contorted his usual semi-permanent smile. In the center of it all sat he and Maggie, his arm around her. They looked so young. Four, almost 5, years ago, it had been. Before they were even 30. Before it had really even begun between them, and years before it all had ended.

A quiet knock came at his door, shaking him back to the present, scattering the cold air he'd felt surround him.

He sighed. "Come in."

The door opened wide enough for a head to pop in. Julie's. His nurse, at least for the time being. He'd not kept a nurse for more than a month since he'd joined the practice last fall. Initially, his short fuse and irritability made them quit rather quickly. Now, his antisoical behavior was off-putting enough that most started looking for new jobs their first week. Where Marilyn had placidly rolled her eyes, everyone else flinched and resented him. 

"Don't mean to bother you but there's a patient waiting."

"Now!? Who in the hell scheduled me an 8:30? You know I don't see patients until 9:30. I need this time to catch up on paperwork and...and everything else."

"I know. I didn't do it. The desk did. Emergency appointment, so..."

"And no one else can handle it? ...Nevermind. Which exam room?"

"She's in 2. Chart's on the door. And I know that's Mark's room now, but I got confused. Sorry."

Julie exited quickly and pulled the door shut behind her. Or maybe it was Julia. He didn't really care. She'd be gone soon enough it wouldn't matter. He draped his stethoscope around his neck, sighed, and walked to the exam room. What would today's 'emergency' be? Valium prescription to deal with the fact someone's kids were home for the summer? Collagen injection ahead of a cocktail party? Referral to a endocrinologist to start a battery of tests to diagnose imaginary symptoms?

He snatched the patient file out of the plastic door holder and opened the door in one motion, trying hard to put a smile on his face and sound like he was an engaged and caring physician. 

"What seems to be the trouble Ms....uh..." his eyes scanned the page trying to find the patient's last name. The form was completely blank. First the desk schedules this off-hours appointment, then they don't even remember to get paperwork completed. 

"You look like hell, Fleischman."

His eyes snapped up to see Maggie O'Connell perched, one leg tucked under her, smiling but with worried eyes, on his exam table. He almost dropped the file.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2 in progress

"O'Connell?!" Without thinking, he took two fast steps towards her, wrapped both arms around her, hugged her tightly, and tossed the file on the exam table behind her. He pulled back, his hands moving to her sides, still holding her. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" 

She smiled. "I am. Mostly." She put her left hand up to touch his cheek, resting it then on his shoulder. "I had this feeling I needed to see how you were doing. Which appears to be badly. You look miserable."

"You could have just called."

"I know. But I figured I'd pop in. See how things are."

"'Pop in'? Pop 3,000 miles across the entire North American continent?"

She squeezed his shoulder with her left hand. "I've missed you. A lot."

"Really?" That was a rare moment of straightforward affection and honesty. His eyes darted to hand, to its ring finger, where he was surprised to see a gold band encircling it. "Wedding ring?"

"Yeah." She moved to peek down at his left hand. "Not you?" She sounded equally surprised.

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

He smiled a little, in spite of what should have been a sore subject. He couldn't suppress how incredibly happy he was to just see her, hold her. "Well, I stopped wearing it when you mailed me those divorce papers. Figured it was time."

"You never signed them. We're still married." 

"Oh." He said softly, nodding slowly and looking disappointed. "I get it. That's why you're here."

"It's not. I promise." She looked unsettled a moment. "You're not seeing anyone, though...are you?"

"Seeing someone? Me?"

"Yeah. You apparently want to look single - you're not acting the part?"

"I don't want to look single. I don't want to be single. But I don't want to have to look at my ring everyday, either. It's depressing."

"You haven't dated anyone else, then?" She sounded relieved.

He smiled back at her and said nothing.

She looked instantly unsettled again. "What? *Have* you?"

"I'm just enjoying this for a moment. I never thought I'd see jealousy from you. Over me." His eyes crinkled happily at the corners.

Her eyes narrowed but looked worried still. "Jealous? Hardly. I'm curious, Fleischman. Curious, maybe."

"Curious, huh? I don't believe you, you know. But I'll play along because I'm so happy to see you. No. There's no one else. I've been totally faithful to you, whether I was obligated to be, wanted to be, or not." He paused, saw her eyebrow start to arch up and cut her off, mid-thought. "Okay. Two dinners I didn't realize were supposed to be dates over the last year. Both ended early." He paused again, debating whether to say what he wanted to. As sideways as his morning had gone, he figured he might as well. "Both because I'm still in love with you."

"Yeah...well." Her eyes sparkled happily, and she smiled at him. "Hmmm."

"'Hmmm' is your only reaction to that?" He saw so much more than that in her eyes. As the time they were together had gone on, he'd learned to look there since she so rarely said what she really felt.

"For now... You cut your hair. It's short." She tickled along the back of his neck with her fingernail.

"You want to talk about my hair now?" He really didn't care what they discussed as long as it was really her and he was holding onto her. He couldn't keep himself from smiling.

"It's different. You look handsome, though. Grown up. Very serious. It's less curly, though. I loved those curls..." Her eyes dropped to his collar, and she started fidgeting with his tie. "You still can't seem to get your ties on straight. Your taste is substantially better than it was. *You* picked this one out?"

"No," Joel said, flushing a little. "My mom took me shopping when I moved back here."

Maggie laughed. "That explains it. Why didn't you ever let me pick out your ties?"

"You never offered. Any other fashion criticisms you'd like to voice? My pants? My shoes? My belt?"

She leaned back and looked him up and down, nodding critically, sliding her hands down the lapels of his lab coat as she moved. "Nice shirt...nice pants...they even go with each other. And fit you well. You're wearing big boy shoes to work, too - not sneakers. And this lab coat...huh. No, I'm impressed. You pass inspection, Fleischman. Very pulled together. Very nice. This knot, though..." Her hands slid from his coat to the fabric of his shirt collar, her cheeks pink. If he didn't know better, and if they hadn't broken up a year ago, he'd have thought she was a little turned on. Not that her sliding her hands along his chest wasn't having a similar effect on him at the moment...

"Here. I'll re-tie it for you. You do this wrong; it's why they're never on you straight." She moved in close again, slid the knot of his tie down, and started to undo it gently. He watched her fingers work open the knot. He loved it when she tied his ties for him; it was such an overfamiliar, doting gesture and it always took him back to that excited twinge he'd gotten the first time she'd done it, long before it became serious between them. Cold air built around him and he shivered a little, both at the cold and the intimate contact with her. She didn't notice. 

He'd almost forgotten the whole series of strange incidents that preceded this, surprised and elated as he was to see Maggie so unexpectedly. The cold suddenly surrounding him brought everything back to mind - was this the 'opening' all of that had been building towards? Was this his chance? He opened his mouth, ready to tell her he wanted to try again, but she beat him to it.

"Hey...what would you say if I asked you to come home with me?" Her voice had lost that haughty, teasing tone; the words were spoken softly, shyly, her eyes still trained on her fingers.

His first impulse had been 'yes,' but he stifled it and went with a more neutral response. "What?" 

"Come back to Cicely with me." Her voice was still quiet and with an uncharacteristic unsureness to it. "Please." 

"Are you serious?"

She finished his tie and pushed the knot up gently to his collar and then looked back at his face. "Yeah. I told you - I miss you. I meant it." Her eyes were worried and uncertain, but filled with emotion. She still loved him, he realized all at once - he could see it in her eyes. Which should have made him happier but he suddenly felt angry - why had she done all of this if she loved him? Irritation began to overwhelm the joy that had flooded him so completely.

"You miss me? And want me to come home?" His frustrated words seemed to make the cold air around them dissipate in an instant. "You kicked me out, you know. You said you couldn't live with me a second longer..."

His hands stayed on her sides, and hers slid from his collar back to his shoulders. "I know. I overreacted. A little..."

"Well, I believed you. A lot. So I left."

"There's leaving and then there's moving to the other side of the country. Isn't it possible you overreacted a little too?"

Even inside his mind, his feelings were at odds. He was elated that she loved him still, but his sense of justice itched to pick up where their argument had left off a year ago. "Maybe. But I'm here now. Settled. You expect me to pick up and leave, just like that? I have a job here, patients...my family...a life..." 

"Not much of one, it sounds like..."

"Oh that's nice." He bristled further at her judgmental tone, abruptly taking his hands off of her and crossing his arms in between their bodies. "Upon what do you base that assessment, having not seen me in all this time?"

She softened, seeing him start to pull away from her and their conversation. She took one hand off of his shoulder and traced the back of it along his cheek again, before letting it rest on one of his crossed forearms. "Come on, I didn't mean that as a jab. I happen to know you hate this practice. And that you're lonely here. You come home miserable every night."

Her touch took some of the vigor out of his determined anger. "Where do you get that from?"

"Your eyes. And your mom. She also told me you're running again. An hour every day at lunch." There was a gentle accusation in her voice.

"So? It's good exercise."

"Sure, but that's not why you do it. You only do that when you're unhappy and trying to outrun your feelings."

"My mom's an amateur psychologist now? She came up with this theory?" He paused, before hastily adding, "I like running."

"She may buy that, but your wife knows better," Maggie said softly. "I told you, I'm worried about you."

"When did you talk to my mom?" He jumped back to talk about his mom, trying to escape the little flutter his heart felt that she knew him better than he'd given her credit for. And cared enough still to worry.

"Your mom and I talk every week. Like we always have. She's never mentioned that to you?"

"No. You do? Why the hell would you want to talk? Or would she? We're divorced."

"Well, I didn't divorce your mom. Or you, for that matter. Successfully anyway. Plus, your mom loves me - you know that. And you. She's worried about you, too. And she wants us back together."

"Nice. So you've got my mom on your side?"

"I think she's on our side, collectively. Why do you care that we still talk, anyway? Don't you ever talk to her about us?"

"Of course. But I don't like the idea of you having little sidebars with her about me...us...whichever."

"Why?"

"Because she's my mom, for one - not yours. For two, you're probably only telling her your side of the story. Let me guess, in these chats, while you tell her how deeply worried you are about my mental and emotional well being, you never happened tell her that it was you that ended things and put me in this situation in the first place. You. Not me. I didn't get a say in it. I just did what I was told. Which was to leave."

Anger flickered in her eyes for a second, before he saw her sigh and it disappear again. "I figured you'd covered that already. Probably several times. And I did tell her. And told her why. Anyway, it sounds like you only tell her your side of the story, just like you think I do mine. Fleischman..." She trailed off, her eyes locked on his. "You don't miss being together?"

He stared back at her a long while before quietly adding, "Of course I do. Every day. But...you ended it. You told me to leave. And then you pulled that bullshit divorce on me, too. Normal couples work on things if they get mad, they don't just burn it all down."

"Oh come on. You moved away long before I ever even thought about filing for..." She stopped herself, closing her eyes briefly, and started again with a softer tone of voice. "Sorry. When we were together, I had trouble with telling you...I never knew how to be consistently...even though I...I mean, you know how my parents were...and I know none of it is a valid excuse, I realize that, but I just wasn't good at this before."

"You're telling me. Little miss take me or leave me."

That familiar look flashed again in her eyes, staying this time, as a terseness entered her voice. "You weren't exactly the perfect spouse yourself, you know, and I am not the only bad guy here. Every fight we had boiled down to you hating that it was me keeping you from coming back the New York. You said you'd stay, but you didn't really want to."

She was right, which made him more defensive and more irritated. He moved quickly to shift the blame back her way. "Maybe so, but they all *started* with you acting like I didn't matter to you. At least I'm not the one who took our vows lightly - at least I meant forever when I said it."

Her eyes and voice hardened further, mirroring his finally. "I did, too, you know."

"Says the woman who kicked me out..."

"...says the guy who left without a fight..."

"...says the woman who filed for divorce..."

"...says the guy living on the opposite end of the country from his wife..."

They looked at each other, eyes flashing, a long while. Hers were every bit as beautiful as they were the first time he'd first noticed they were green, sitting across from her in the Brick, exhausted, miserable, and a little bit drunk on that first night in Cicely. He'd seen them like this, shooting daggers at him, more times than he could count. But he'd also seen them playful, joyful, amorous, frustrated, laughing, nervous, and, on rare occasions, tearful. He missed all of it. Why was he doing this? All he'd wanted since last year was just one chance to make things right with her again, and here she was close enough to wrap his arms around, and he was sidetracked, trying to one-up her as always. All it took - now or ever - was wanting to be together more than wanting to be right. He cracked suddenly, smiled, and laughed. 

She looked startled and then annoyed. "And why is this is funny?"

He uncrossed his arms and put his hands back on her sides, giving her a gentle squeeze as he did. "It just is. You and I...we're fighting over who did the slightly less egregious job of fucking up our marriage. Like there's some moral victory in being the second worst person in this equation..."

She smiled, a little sadly. "We have no business even entertaining being together, do we?"

"I was just thinking the opposite. That we're lucky we found each other, because no other right-minded person would have either of us. Look, I miss you so much, I'll give in first. I'll do it for the rest of my life, if that's what we need to stay together. I'm sorry. You are absolutely right with what you said just now. I was angry at you over New York. It was unfair, but I was. And I was never going to get past it until I came back here. I had to see this isn't what I thought it would be. Stop blaming you for keeping me from this life I didn't even know I didn't want. There's a reason I left so easily, with so little encouragement. You're really not that persuasive."

Her eyes softened, and she paused before surprising him with her admission. "I never knew how much I'd, uh, well, miss you..." She leaned forward and hugged him, pressing her cheek to his and talking quietly, shyly, her lips next his ear. "Whether you needed to or not, it shouldn't have been so easy for you to leave. You were right, too; I took you for granted - I know I did. You were right to feel like you did. I didn't give you much reason to think you leaving would affect me. But it did. I'm sorry, too. I've been sorry every day since you left." Her voice wavered as she spoke, her lips by his ear.

He hugged her tight, glad this was finally over. "I love you, honey. I'm sorry. God, I missed you so much..." He kissed her just beneath her ear and then started kissing along her jawline.

"Um. There's something else I want to say. I need to tell you something...but before you react, this is a happy story. Ultimately. But...the thing is, I tried to sleep with someone else..."

He pulled back to face her, his grin evaporating and eyes sobering. "You cheated on me?"

"Cheated on you? We're divorced! You've dated other people! You don't even wear your ring!"

"You really go back and forth on the efficacy of what you did, don't you? I thought we agreed we're not divorced if I didn't sign anything. And, I told you, I didn't know they were dates. And I wear my ring everywhere..." his hand went to his collar and pulled a chain out from under his shirt, his wedding band strung on it, dropping it to hang alongside his tie. "...just not on my finger where I have to look at it. I can't believe you slept with someone else..." 

"And I told *you*, wait until the end before you react." She was smiling fondly at him. 

He took a breath, closing and reopening his eyes briefly, looking miserable. "Okay. So who was he?"

"Calm down. You go from nothing to catastrophe in a heartbeat. Same old Fleischman. You did hear me say 'tried to,' right? Not 'did'? And the 'who' isn't as interesting here as the 'why'. I promise. So. I had an FAA thing in Juneau, and I had dinner with someone afterwards. We had some drinks, and I invited myself up to his hotel room to force myself to get over you. I tried to kiss him and realized the minute his lips touched mine that I couldn't possibly go through with it." She paused and took a breath, nervous. "And that's becau-"

"Who was he?" Joel interrupted her, trying - and failing - not to sound impatient.

"I think you're going to be much more interested in why I couldn't do it. Can't we get to that, get past you being stuck on just 'who'? And anyway, what is this, jealousy?" She mimicked his earlier question and had a happy flicker in her eyes.

He relaxed a little - surely she wouldn't be this blase about something she knew he'd be upset over. "Yes. Of course it is. The thought of you with someone else..." He looked at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself, and then meeting her eyes again. "Okay, you tried but you didn't. Fine. I don't care who it was, I guess. Or I'll try not to. So, why couldn't you?" 

"I promise - this is the good part. I was all set to try. And I walked into that room, and then...Fleischman, I couldn't even so much as kiss someone else." She swallowed nervously and took a slow breath. "Because I'm still in love with you, too. Because I realized I won't ever feel this way about anyone else. I can't. I love you too much, Fleischman."

His smile grew, his eyes twinkling disbelievingly. "You just said you loved me."

"Twice. Yeah. Because I do love you."

"Three times. Which means - you realize this is now as many times as you've ever said it to me before. And all at once." He was grinning broadly.

"Come on. I didn't say it enough, but surely I said it more than..."

"The night we decided to move in together. After I first told you, you said it back." He extended his first finger. "That New Year's party at the Brick where you had 3 glasses of champagne in the span of about 10 minutes - you said it when you tried to tempt me with sex in the back booth, which you pretend you don't remember. But which we both know absolutely happened and wasn't your proudest moment." He added a second finger, and she blushed at the memory. "And on our wedding day, you said it - as part of our scripted vows." He held a third finger up. "So three times. Plus three just now."

"Okay, okay. Like you said, we both did this awful thing to each other. You wanted to leave, yes, but I also did a terrible job of making sure you knew how I felt about you. My family was awful about feelings and expressions of emotion - this isn't something that comes naturally to me...but, so you know, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life. And I won't ever make you question that again. Promise."

"Seven times." He grinned happily.

"You're not going to keep a running count, are you?" She rolled her eyes and tugged on his ring, still strung on its chain. "That's really going to get annoying fast. And, knowing us, will devolve into an unhealthy competitive thing. I think I still remember an easy way to shut you up though..." She used the chain still hanging alongside his tie to pull him close and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Who was the guy?" He said, against her lips.

She laughed, pulling back, her finger still hooked through his ring. "Fleischman! I thought you didn't care."

"I tried not to. It didn't work, though. Who?"

"You know if I tell you, you'll just fixate and obsess. Like you do. You're better off not knowing."

"Probably. So who was he?"

"Fleischman. One kiss. One partial kiss. I said I was sorry. It meant and means nothing. Just an acquaintance of mine. If I tell you, you'll just be territorial and jealous and..." He suddenly placed the strange look in her eyes - it wasn't guilt but chagrin.

Realization started to dawn on him. "If this was someone I'd actually get jealous over, you'd have already told me... It isn't. You're embarrassed."

Maggie's face flushed. "That's not true. I feel bad."

"You don't. You're blushing. It's embarassment." He relaxed, laughing gently. "Who?"

"Here I am, ready to marry you all over again and you want to...okay. He's just this pilot in Sitka I run into a lot. Guy named Greg. He's pestered me for years about going out with him..."

"Oh, O'Connell! You tried to sleep with that guy?!" Joel looked amused and disgusted all at once. 

"You remember him? By name? You've met him once in your life!"

"Twice. I met him once with Red, too. He's fairly memorable. Him?! What, were you thinking if you couldn't be with me, you'd just find the worst person you could and give that a try?"

"He's not that bad."

"O'Connell, he wears shorts. To work. In Alaska. He has a Tasmanian devil tattoo. The guy walks around with a ponytail and..."

"Fleischman! Three years ago he did! He cut it. Long before I said I'd go out with him, too. As if that matters. How and why do you even remember any of that?"

"Like you said, that guy's been after you for years. He asked you out while I was standing right there."

"He was entitled. We weren't anywhere near dating then."

"He couldn't tell that and did it anyway. He's been on my radar the day I met him."

"Because he asked me out once? And your 'radar'?" She rolled her eyes, fidgeting again with the ring now hanging by his tie, running her fingers over the inscription she'd had engraved inside, the day before their wedding. "You met him years before you were even after me. There was no radar."

"The hell there wasn't. I've been in love with you a lot longer than you know about. You know, he had some really colorful things he shared with Red and I about you that I'd think would pretty well keep you from ever even considering... Yeah, he's on my list. And he's objectively awful. And you were going to sleep with him."

"How long *have* you been in love with me?"

"No way are you changing the subject from you almost sleeping with...wait, did you take your ring off as part of this plan?"

"No. I told you; I always wear it."

"I know. Hence my question. So, in addition to his other qualities, you were attracted his casual attitude about your marital status?"

"He knew about the divorce."

"How, when it never even actually happened?"

She flushed again and started sliding the ring back and forth along its chain, her eyes trained on her fingers again. "Okay. He asked me out when he ran into me in the courthouse when I was filing for our divorce..."

"He hangs around family court, picking up women who are filing for divorce? He sounds like a real catch. Even minus the ponytail. I can see why you felt so tempted."

"Tempted... you're never going to let me live this down, are you? Fleischman, he was a sure thing, and I needed to get over you. Or thought I did. It's over. Look." She pulled the necklace up over his head and unstrung the ring from it. "You want to be married again or not?"

"Yes."

"Then shut up. And never bring Greg up again. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah."

She held his ring in her palm, in front of him before abruptly closing her hand, sighing audibly. 

"What's wrong?"

"Are we making a mistake? I mean, if we do this again..."

"No."

"Maybe we got married too young, and that's why it didn't work the first time."

"Young!? You say that like we were teenagers. We were 32. Well, you were, but I was right behind you. That's hardly young. We got married too crazy. That was our problem. We are both high-strung, stubborn, selfish, immature, combative, inflexible, retributive..."

She nodded disappointedly and soberly. "We still are. Why we ever would consider doing it again?"

"Because..." He smiled fondly at her. "Those are all the reasons why we work so well together, too. We're very similar people. The crazy is what screwed us that first time. I decided to come back home the moment I saw you. Whether you wanted me to or not. I miss you immeasurably. And Cicely, you'll be amused to know. I can't live without either of you. Happily, at least. Best thing I ever did was to marry you. When do we go home?"

"Saturday. If you're ready. And if you're really sure about this. I have two tickets back to Anchorage." She opened her hand again. "So you want to make the same mistake twice?"

He smiled at her. "I'll make it every day of my life, if you'll let me." He grinned and took the ring from her and slid it back onto his finger before looking solemn. "I promise I'll do better this time. I've seen what life without you looks like..."

"You know I'll hold you to that. And I'll do better, too. Promise."

His gaze moved to her lips, and he leaned in to kiss her.

"This is cute, by the way," she said against his lips as they made contact.

"Wha...what is?" He was flustered after she ended their kiss before it started. He wanted badly to continue that kiss, but he could count on one hand the times she'd told him he was cute and still have digits to spare. His curiosity and ego got the better of him.

"This. Your coat thing. 'Dr. Joel Fleischman, MD.'" She traced the name on his lab coat with her fingers as she read, slowly. 

He gave her a self-conscious, quizzical look in return. "That's who I've been since the day we first met. I'm actually board certified in internal medicine now, too. If that does anything for you. But you were always pretty underwhelmed by all it, if memory serves. Even the MD part."

"In the spirit of being a better wife...I should probably tell you that's not totally true. Board certified, huh?"

"Yeah. I had a lot of time on my hands this past year. O'Connell, I gotta admit I'm pretty lost right now...and I really want to kiss you, but I feel like you're trying to tell me something so in the vein of being a good husband, I know should try to..."

"I told you already. I like this." She slid her fingers down the lapels of his coat.

"What, the lab coat?"

"Mmmhmmm...you've never noticed this about me?"

"I'm still failing to notice it now. What are you talking about? What, is the lab coat a turn on for you or something?" He squinted playfully at her, his tone facetious. 

There was a long pause. Maggie flushed a little and moved to straighten his tie again, breaking eye contact with him.

It slowly dawned on him. "Wait...*is* it?

"Well..."

"Really?! Why in God's name didn't I know this before?!"

"Because you're insecure and not terribly observant. You never put this together? You'd be wearing one of these every now and again when I'd stop by your office. I'd talk you into sneaking home - or not - and we'd..."

"*That's* what prompted all that? The coat?"

"Sometimes. And you never had a personalized one like this, with your name on it and everything." Her finger traced along his name again. "It's very professional. Very upstanding. Very doctorly." Something familiar flickered in her green eyes, which were back on his. "Kind of hot."

"'Hot'?" He said incredulously, looking down at his clothes in disbelief. "The coat?" 

"The coat, the doctor thing, the guy wearing it...all of it, really..."

"You're kidding me."

She shook her head slowly, never breaking eye contact.

"O'Connell, I didn't realize that's what did it for you or I'd have ordered 20 of these. Long ago."

"Mmmm, well, it does." She raised her eyebrow expectantly. "I like it. A lot." She leaned in to kiss him.

"Why? Is it just the visual? Am I doing something specific to produce this reaction? Or, maybe...is it the..."

"Fleischman." She'd paused, pressing her index finger gently to his lips, hers still hovering an inch away. "I haven't laid eyes, hands, or lips on you since last summer. And I'm telling you I think you're hot. Because I do. Do you want to spend 10 minutes isolating exactly why? Or do you wanna shut up and kiss me while I still feel this way?" She lifted her finger off his lips. 

"Oh. Yeah. Okay..."

He leaned in and caught her lips with his this time. Their kiss was tentative and sweet for about two seconds before it intensified. His arms encircled her, pulling her against him. She untucked her foot from underneath her and slid forward to balance on the table's edge. Her arms slid under his coat to wrap tightly around his back, pulling him closer as they kissed. 

Eventually, he came up for air, and her lips were on his throat instantly. Through gritted teeth he moaned softly. "If you keep that up, we're gonna end up doing it right on this exam table..." 

"That wouldn't be the worst thing...and we've done it before..."

"I remember...believe me...but we really shouldn't have done that..."

"...it was your idea..."

"I was relying on you to resist me. And only now am I realizing why you didn't. But we really can't in here...this isn't even my exam room. But my office door here locks..."

"...or my hotel is two blocks over..."

"Let's go." He pulled her down from the table and began backing towards the door, unwilling to let go of her. His heels hit the wall by the door, and he fumbled for the handle beside him as she kissed him again. The door opened and he backed out of it, lips on Maggie's, as they ran directly into Mark who was headed in. 

"Joel, I didn't want to interrupt you with a patient, but room 2 is mine, and I have a procedure at 9:00 that I need to prep for. You've had rooms 3 and 4 for the last eight months - how can't you remem..."

Mark froze, taking in the image of his colleague, an apparent patient wrapped around him, kissing as they left the exam room. "What the hell are you doing!? Is this a patient!?"

Joel broke the kiss and turned to face Mark. Maggie's lips landed on his neck, where she continued as if no one else was there. "I quit."

"What?!?"

"I hate this place. And you, to be perfectly honest. So I quit. Effective immediately."

"You quit?!? What are you thinking? And who the hell is this?"

"My wife." Joel took Maggie's hand and kissed it gently, smiling at her. He led her past Mark down the hallway towards his office.

"You've really lost it, you know that?" He followed Joel down the hallway, still in disbelief. "First you're talking to yourself on 83rd like a street lunatic, now you're quitting? *And* you've fictionalized yourself a spouse? You're not married, Joel - you live with your parents. Remember?"

Joel lifted Maggie to sit on his desk, kissing her quickly, before turning to hurriedly throw small items from around his office into his gym bag.

"Oh, he definitely is," Maggie said, smirking. "We've been married for years." She paused, reaching beside her. "This picture? This is what you have of me on your desk? I hate that dress." She wrinkled her nose at the framed photo she'd picked up from next to her.

He plucked it from her hands and put it into his bag. "I happen to love that picture. And it's my office."

Mark's eyes shifted from Joel to Maggie and back again, looking shell-shocked. "You never once mentioned a wife. You've worked here a long time. How does that not come up in conversation?"

"Must have slipped my mind. Look, find yourself another GP. Sell my share. Sue me for breach. Do whatever you want. I'm not coming back, though. 'Scuse me, honey." Joel leaned over Maggie, reaching to grab the group photo he'd been looking at earlier. 

She grabbed his tie, pulling him close as he leaned back, to whisper into his ear. "'Honey'? You *are* trying hard to be good, huh, Fleischman? I like this decisive thing you're doing, too. A lot. It might even be hotter than this doctor getup of yours." She pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot just under his ear.

"How do you just quit?" Mark asked from the doorway behind Joel. Joel opened his mouth to answer as Maggie's voice purred in his ear again.

"Honey...are you done quitting?" Maggie kissed lower on Joel's neck. "And packing? I'm getting bored. You know, this desk seems really sturdy and I bet Mark wouldn't mind watching us..."

Joel pulled back and tried to give her an warning look, his dark eyes clearly wary, unsure if she was joking or serious. He turned towards his bag, finding his voice again.

"I don't know, Mark. Look. Keep my last paycheck to cover whatever I owe you for doing this. Mail anything you need to to my mom. I have to get out of here. Right now." He grabbed his bag, tossed his briefcase inside it, took Maggie's hand and led her out his door and towards reception.

Mark followed Joel and Maggie out past the front desk and into the waiting room. "You can't seriously be walking out. Where are you going?"

The elevator bell chimed its arrival.

Joel said, walking inside and setting his bag on the floor. Maggie wrapped an arm around him and slid the other up his chest as she smiled politely said, "We're going to go have sex. It was nice meeting you, Mark."

"Nice meeting him?" Joel repeated incredulously, making an irritated face.

"I'm just being polite. He seems like an okay guy."

"Your standards are clearly a little off. I mean, this, from the woman who seriously contemplated a night with Greg the ponytail pilot."

"Are we going to argue about that forever?"

"God, I hope so..." murmured Joel, leaning in and kissing her.

The doors slid closed as Mark and the rest of the waiting room watched in disbelief.


End file.
